Fire Escape
by Monkeybarrel
Summary: Wild Adapter oneshot A hot night, a sixpack of beer, and his balcony. Tokitoh was going to have a good time, even it was by himself.


Disclaimer: I do not own Wild Adapter.

Fire Escape

He didn't know which was worse, the fact that it was boiling hot in the apartment, or the fact that there was no one else around to complain to about it.

No one else, or rather, no Kubota.

Tokitoh let out a loud sigh and rolled off the couch onto the floor. The coolness of the wood felt better on his skin than the couch cushions, but only momentarily. After a minute, he was sweating, and he rolled over to where the TV sat to find another cool spot. After another minute, he moved over towards the balcony where the door was wide open, letting more hot air into the room. He wiped his brow with his gloved hand and grimaced as the leather slid across his skin. He slowly peeled it off, and for a second, he enjoyed the feeling of air against his hand. He rubbed it against his neck, and the fur came away glistening. He scowled down at it.

"Damn, this bites." He rolled onto his stomach and looked out the door. The streetlamps made a yellow haze that shone where the roofs of the buildings met the night sky. He turned his head and looked at the clock above the television.

8:30, and it still felt as hot as it did during the day.

He had fled the apartment that morning, but the afternoon sun and the crowds of people walking about drove him back. Everywhere he had gone- from the video arcade to the park to the shopping district- seemed too hot to stay at, and all the people milling about around him made it worse. It hadn't really been just the heat and the crowds that had put him in a foul mood, but the fact that he had walked about the whole day alone, and no matter how bad it got, he had no one there to grumble to but himself. More than once, he turned to complain about the weather or the lines at the arcade or the price of ice cream, but found only some strangers looking back, their faces full of confusion about why he was talking to them.

"Sorry," he mumbled each time. "...I thought you were someone else." And then he felt that it was time to move on, and maybe the coolness he sought would be somewhere else, maybe down the block, or in the building across the street. And so, he bounced from place to place, sweating and grumbling to strangers until he finally stumbled home and collapsed on the bed. That had been over four hours ago, and now, even after the sun had gone down, the heat he wanted to escape from still clung to him like the wet shirt against his back.

He looked up at the clock again.

8:35. "Fuck." When was this day going to end? And where the hell was Kubo-chan?

As if on cue, his phone went off. He took it out of his pocket and checked the screen. "It's about fucking time." He pressed the receive button and put the phone up to his ear. "Yeah?"

"Ah, Tokitoh?" Kubota's voice sounded small and far away. "It's me."

He rolled his eyes. Even though it was obvious who was calling him, Kubota always had to tell him anyways. "Where the hell are you? I can barely hear you."

"Uh...Saitama, I think."

"What the- why the hell are you all the way out there?"

"Just waiting out for a delivery. I'll take the train back when I'm done."

"Fuckin' A. Couldn't they come out here and get it?"

"That would probably demean the whole 'delivery' work that we do, wouldn't it?" He heard Kubota laugh on the other end.

"So? Lazy bastards can pick up their own shit for once."

"I'll make sure to tell that to Kou-san next time he pays us."

"...Whatever." He sighed and let his head rest on the floor, the cool wood pressing up against his cheek. "So, when are you coming back?"

"Mm, I'll probably be a couple more hours at least. Have you already eaten?"

Dinner? He had completely forgotten about it. "Nah."

"I'm going to grab food here, so you should fix yourself something."

"Ah." He rolled onto his back. Dinner, huh?

"Everything all right?"

"...Yeah." He brushed his hair back from his forehead. "It's just..." He bit his lip, stopping up the thing he most wanted to say. The heat was bad, but it wasn't THAT bad yet to bitch to Kubota about him not being around. Somehow, his complaining never touched that part. "It's just fucking hot here."

"You can say that again."

"It's just fucking hot-" There was a loud bang in the background of the phone. Tokitoh shot up from the floor. "What was that?"

"That-" Kubota's voice seemed even further away, "is my ride. I'll see you in a few hours. Go eat something."

"Hey, Kubo-chan, what the-" But too late. Kubota had clicked off.

He looked down at the phone and at the familiar name that blinked twice and then disappeared from the screen. "Asshole."

He got up off the floor and tugged his shirt away from his skin, allowing some air to slip in between him and the fabric. It still didn't cool him off though. After the phone call, he felt even hotter. He walked over to the fridge and opened it. Inside there was a container of leftover curry from the night before, a jar of pickles, and a carton of milk. He sniffed at the milk, grimaced at the smell, and put it back. For a minute, he stood still and let the fridge's cool air move past him, and then he closed the door.

After slipping his glove back on, he headed down the hall. If he was going to have to eat something, he was going to get out of here to do it.

And maybe going outside would cool him down a little…

----

He slammed the door shut and dropped the bag on the ground, the cans of beer clinking together as they hit the floor.

"Ah, shit." He scowled down at the bag. He was going to have to remember to open those over the sink. Letting out a loud sigh, he slipped off one sneaker and then the other. Picking up the bags, he headed into the kitchen and placed the beer in the fridge. He left the door open for a couple of seconds and ducked his head down to feel the air. Going out to the 7-11 had done nothing to cool him off. He felt even hotter now, and he didn't think it was just because he had been running.

-----

Kubota's phone call had repeated over and over in his head the entire way down, each time ending with a loud bang and then restarting again. The only way he knew how to respond was to clench his fists and stomp faster down the street, but no matter how he fast he moved, he couldn't outrun the worry that had been settling in the back of his mind, behind all the heat and grumbling.

But he wouldn't admit that out loud. "I don't care how late he comes home!" he shouted out as he passed the Curry House. No way was he going to eat there, he decided, speeding up his pace. No way was he going to have some shit-ass curry, not when they still had the shit-ass curry from the night before, still sitting in the fucking fridge, soaking up all that cool air while he was stuck out here looking for a fucking dinner because somebody is out in fucking Saitama for the stupid fucking hack and no fucking way was he going to stay home and eat his shit-ass curry!

He was running, passing restaurants and shops, his sneakers pounding against the sidewalk, and with each step, he thought he heard a bang in the distance. It just made him go faster.

Before he knew it, he was back at the apartment building. Breathing hard, he bent down, placing his hands on his knees. He had circled the block without even thinking about it. Catching his breath, he stood up and looked at his watch.

9:00pm.

He looked back at his building. He could go back up. He didn't have to go out and buy anything. He could go into the fridge and heat up...

"Hell with that." He walked, slower this time. He could see the glow of the 7-11 down the block. "See you in a few hours," he repeated Kubota's words as he trudged on. "Hell with that."

He reached the store, and the doors opened automatically. A blast of air conditioning hit him, and it cooled his sweaty skin. As he walked down the aisles, he faced so many choices for dinner, but suddenly he realized he wasn't very hungry.

"Stupid heat wave." That was the only reason he could think of for the loss of appetite. He turned away from the row of instant ramen when a sign caught his eye. Asahi Beer- 500 yen for six cans. He stared at the display for a moment.

Couple hours…huh? He reached into his pocket and pulled out some coins. "I got 500 yen."

And he had some time and a whole hell of a lot of heat to kill too.

----- 

A cold shower helped wash off the sweat from his run, and he stepped out of the washroom with only a towel around his waist. Cool drops of water dripped from his hair onto his back, and as they slipped down, some of the tension that seemed to course through him fell away with it. He walked to the fridge and grabbed one of the cans of beer. He held it up against his cheek and then his chest. 

This…is a good feeling. He sighed and popped the top, jumping back too late as liquid sprayed straight up. "Ah, shit!" He had completely forgotten about dropping the cans. He stuck one finger in his mouth and licked the beer off as he reached with his other hand for some tissues. "Nothing's going right tonight." He wiped the can clean and shook it a little, listening to the liquid slosh inside. It felt half empty already.

"Good thing I got five more after this." He tipped his head back and finished the can in one long drink. Taking a breath, he looked over to the clock.

10:00pm.

It was too early to go to bed, and he wasn't even tired anyways. There could be something on the TV maybe, or there's always the Playstation...

Without thinking, he reached into the fridge and grabbed another beer.

How long would it take, he wondered, his finger pulling the can's tab up, to get from Saitama to here?

His answer was another spray of beer on his hands.

"Ah, shit!" He reached for more tissues. Smooth one, Asshole.

"Stupid fucking heat wave." It was the only reason he could think of why he was spacing out so much. It had to be the heat. Why else would he be sweaty and sticky and now reeking like beer even though he'd barely had any? He gulped the rest of the can and wiped his hand across his mouth.

Well, he wasn't going to let some lame-ass heat mess him up anymore. He crushed the can between his palms and tossed it on the counter. He was going to have fun, lots of fun, and cool down, and not sleep, and have a kick-ass time, and- and-

Without thinking, he glanced over at the clock.

10:05.

He grabbed the rest of the cans and stomped over to the balcony. The concrete felt warm beneath his bare feet, and he sat down on the ground, adjusting his towel so it lay under him while it still covered. I should probably go change, he thought. But he didn't get up. Instead, he leaned against the wall and felt the glass door on his back. Holding the can as far away as he could, he popped the top and waited until the spray died down. He brought it up to his lips and took a long sip.

No heat was going to get the best of him. He was going to have fun still.

Even if it was just him, alone.

-----

Somewhere in the back of his dream, he heard a phone ringing, over and over again. He turned his head away from it, pressing his ear into the pillow, trying to block it out. It was too early for ringing sounds, he thought sleepily. It was too early to get up, too early to do anything, at least for him.

He felt the bed shift under him, and he heard footsteps walking away, and then the sound of the door opening and closing. After a few seconds, the phone stopped ringing, and he relaxed back into the quiet of the bed, and when something soft touched his neck, he didn't open his eyes. _Because it was too early to get up, too early to do anything…_

"I'll be back tonight." A voice, quiet and low, brushed up against his dream, but he couldn't make himself wake up enough to answer more than a "Mmm."

"Tonight." It repeated, and he heard the door close again. After that, things fell away, and in his dream, the air smelled like cigarettes, and the warmth from the kiss never faded from his skin.

-----

"Tokitoh?"

Hands held his arms, pulling him, picking him up.

"Tokitoh, wake up."

Shaking, he was shaking, or something was shaking him. "Hey…cut it out." He lolled his head up and opened his eyes. "I don't wanna-" He looked up and saw the night sky above him. He blinked. "What?"

"And good morning to you."

He turned at the voice and saw Kubota leaning over him. His eyes opened wider. "Kubo-chan?" He looked around and saw that he was lying across the floor of the balcony. He stared down at the towel. Why was he wearing only this? He scratched his head. And why did he feel all foggy?

He looked back up to see Kubota holding some empty cans in his arms. "Hey, did you drink all those?"

"No, but it sure looks like you did." Kubota got up and walked back into the apartment. He returned carrying a blanket. "Aren't you cold?" He held it out to Tokitoh.

Tokitoh looked back up at him, not comprehending the question. "What?"

"Cold? You know, chilly, ice, brrrrrrr." Kubota made a show of rubbing his arms.

Tokitoh looked down at himself. Why was he like this? Why was he-

"...Nah." He shook his head, the evening's events slowly coming back to him. "I was really hot."

"I guess so." Kubota raised his eyebrows in response. "So, ready for bed. It's pretty late."

"What time is it?" He rubbed some of the sleep from his eyes.

"Almost 12:30."

"Whoa." How long had he been asleep?

"Yeah, the train took awhile." Kubota shrugged. "You want to come inside?"

"Yeah," was what he almost said. So tired, he just wanted to crawl into someplace softer than the concrete floor he was on at that moment, but as he slowly remembered why he was sitting out there, he found himself saying something else.

"Nah, it's too hot." He pulled his legs up against his chest and wrapped his arms around his toweled knees.

"Really? You don't look too hot."

"Well, I am!" He didn't mean to shout. It seemed too loud, or maybe the rest of the night seemed too quiet. He ducked his head. "I am," he repeated, softer this time. 

"Okay…" Kubota sighed and brought out his cigarettes from his pocket. "Does this mean you want to stay out here?"

"Yeah." But that wasn't what he wanted. He didn't know what he was doing; he didn't know what he was saying. It was so hot, and everything was fogging together in his mind. He felt sore from sleeping on the ground, and his head hurt, and more than anything, he wanted to say, "I wanna go to bed now, and I want you to be there, and I don't care how many rings or bangs there are, I want you to be there when I wake up." But instead, he turned away from Kubota and looked out to the neighbor's balcony. They had left their laundry out over night, so the towels, shirts, and one pair of pants hung heavily on the line.

"That stuff's not gonna dry good. The air's too wet," he mumbled, almost to himself. He heard a grunt of agreement from Kubota next to him, and then footsteps inside. He closed his eyes, shutting out the hanging laundry and the night sky, and listened as the steps moved down the hall. This is better, he thought. You go sleep there, and I'll stay here. It's too hot in there, and out here…if I gotta wake up with just me, least I'll know it'll be that way.

And then nothing will wake me up. Nothing will make me run so fast that I'll pass right by my building. Nothing will make me drop my beer. Nothing will make me feel so hot and messed up that I can't think straight. 'Cause at least out here, it's just me, and then there's nothing else to think about.

His head felt so heavy that he bent over and rested it on his knees. He breathed in and out, and the air tasted just as heavy inside his mouth. He swallowed, but his throat still felt dry.

The sound of something dragging on the ground got his attention. He looked up to see Kubota coming outside. In his arms he was carrying their mattress.

Tokitoh's eyes widened in surprise. "What the- What are you doing?"

"Could you move a little? I think this is going to be a tight squeeze." Kubota motioned him over with his hand and then pulled the mattress all the way out onto their balcony. It filled the entire space, and Tokitoh had to step up and on to it to remain where he sat.

"Why the hell did you bring this?" He punched the mattress.

"You're the one who said you wanted to sleep out here. So, we sleep out here." Kubota shrugged and walked back inside. Another moment, and he was back with the blanket. He dropped it onto Tokitoh. "For later. In case you do get cold." Tokitoh pulled the blanket off and was about to throw out another retort, but stopped as he watched Kubota unbutton his shirt and then toss it inside onto the floor.

"What are you doing?" Tokitoh's gaze followed Kubota's pants and underwear as they sailed through the air and fell into the living room.

"You're not the only one who's hot." Kubota knelt down onto the mattress. With his towel on, Tokitoh realized that he was the one with the most covering him. He threw the blanket at Kubota. "Kubo-chan, we're outside!"

"I know. Doesn't it feel good?" Kubota pushed off the blanket and lay down on his back next to him. "It might rain though, but still, it's refreshing." He raised his arms up and rested his head on his hands. He turned to Tokitoh. "Don't you think so?"

Tokitoh felt that he had either drank too much or not nearly enough for this to make sense. Here Kubota lay, outside, on their mattress, naked, and if the neighbors came out to get their laundry, or just to smoke, they would see it too. This was too weird. He started to get up. If Kubota's plan was to get him back inside, it was working.

"Ah, but you know what would make this moment perfect?" Kubota asked, his voice soft and low. He looked up at Tokitoh who was inching towards the door. "A nice cold beer. But I think we're all out."

"S-sorry," Tokitoh stammered, and then his earlier anger started to bubble back up. "But it's your fault for being so late."

"I know." Kubota nodded, and sitting up, he took Tokitoh's arm, stopping him from getting to the door. "But I guess this will have to be the next best thing, won't it?" He pulled, gently at first, but Tokitoh instinctively leaned back, away from him. But the next second, his back was on the mattress. Damn, what the hell was wrong with him? He started to get up, but Kubota pressed him down, placing his lips on top of his own. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the familiar taste of cigarettes filled it up, and he fell back as Kubota pressed him further down, with his tongue, with his hands, with his body.

He let out a breath when Kubota moved off of him for a moment, but sucked it back in as he felt the towel pulled away from his waist. He watched as Kubota tossed that too onto the living room floor.

"Now things are more even." He turned to Tokitoh and lowered himself back down. "Doesn't that feel better?"

As Kubota started to kiss along his chest, he wanted to say "No". No, get off. Leave me alone. Go away. Stop it. It's too hot, and my head hurts, and I don't care if you're naked, you're still an asshole, and what the hell are you going to do if someone comes out here right now to get their stupid wet laundry or just to smoke, or- or-

But even with all those reasons flying through his mind, somehow "Yeah," still came out. Without thinking, his hand fell on top of Kubota's head, and he slipped his fingers though his hair.

"Something wrong?"

Tokitoh looked past him and saw how the yellow haze from the streetlamps below showed where the darkness of Kubota's back met the sky. He moved his hand from Kubota's head to his shoulder. He squeezed it, and felt skin and the solidness of bone beneath his furry palm.

"Next time..."

This wasn't a dream. He wasn't about to wake up and find nothing around him but the smell of cigarettes. And there wasn't going to be some phone ringing or some bang in the distance to stop this. Not right now. He dug his claws into Kubota's skin, softly at first, just to feel it.

"I don't care how early it is, I want you to wake me up before you leave. Or else-"

He pressed his claws in deeper and smiled with satisfaction as the effect carried across Kubota's face. He only raised his eyebrows up a little, but to Tokitoh, that was enough.

Kubota gently removed Tokitoh's hand from his shoulder and took it in his own. "Or else?"

He blamed the heat, and the beer, and the fact that they were both wearing nothing between them and the sky. Tokitoh couldn't think of any other reasons why he was tightening his arms around him, closing the distance so the yellow haze could border them both. He pressed his mouth over Kubota's, and between breaths, spoke. "I don't want to wake up to that again, so don't make me."

"Okay." Kubota kissed him back. "But you get all cranky when I get you up early. Are you saying I have to deal with that?"

There was no question in his mind what to say to that. "Yeah!" He pressed his fist against Kubota's chest. "You bet your ass you have to deal with it."

"Shhhhh..." Kubota tapped his mouth. "The laundry might wake up."

"Fuck the laundry." The buzz in his head was waning, and a slow burn of excitement was building up in him, and he knew very shortly he wasn't going to care about anything- the weather, the neighbors, anything, except- "And fuck you."

Kubota raised his eyebrows a little more, one of the few signs Tokitoh understood. Smiling, he lay back and watched the sky and felt the slow burn inside grow to match the heat in the air. Or maybe it was the other way around. He couldn't really tell anymore. The only thing he knew was that when he fell asleep, Kubota was next to him, and in his dreams, he smelled cigarettes.

----

He woke up to a gray sky and watched from under the blanket as the neighbors eyed them warily as they brought in their clothes. When he turned back to the mattress, he slipped his hands around the body next to him.

"Now do I wake you up?" Kubota gave a final wave to the woman next door before she ducked back inside.

Tokitoh pulled the blanket up. "Now we go back to bed."

"Here?"

Without saying any more, he let his head rest on Kubota's chest and closed his eyes. That was the best answer he could give.

And Kubota didn't disagree.


End file.
